


Dreaming of You

by kisstheprincessofpurewhite



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M, Gen, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-07-08 04:20:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19863385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisstheprincessofpurewhite/pseuds/kisstheprincessofpurewhite
Summary: It's been 3 days since Ian and Rachel have seen each other. And the heat on the Ridge is one for the record books. PWP





	Dreaming of You

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to push myself with this one to try and write something as canon compliment rather than AU which almost exclusively what I write. Also smut because I am terrible with smut but we tried you know? It’s just so goddamn hot where rn where I live and I had some feelings. It’s fine. NSFW under the cut

It had been three days since her husband had last touched her. Rachel knew how ridiculous it was to crave being as close as humanly possible to another person when it was hot enough to cook their dinner on a stone, as it was that July on the Ridge. Yet, that hadn’t stopped her those past few nights lying awake in her bed, the heat within and without stifling every breath she took. In her dreams, two hands, brown as nuts from sun roamed over her, setting fire to every inch of her skin. Green-brown eyes bored into hers with a look that melted any inhibition she may have. Lips and tongue coaxed a symphony of sounds from her throat that mixed with chuckles and pleas of his own.

God said it was a sin to give oneself pleasure, but a body’s resolve could only last so long.

Their last touch had been rather chaste. A palm laying flat on her forearm while she gripped his and a kiss on the cheek with a whispered, “I’ll be back afore the end of the week, _mo nighean donn._ ” At the time, she was content to let his last words tickle her belly and soul as he disappeared from view with his bow slung over his shoulder. She knew how it could be between men and women sometimes, with only regards to fleshy desires over companionship. And though he could stoke a fire in her hotter than any day in July, she would take a vow of chastity if it meant being by his side for the rest of her life. Luckily for both of them, there was no need for such vows. And though she had been content with how they had parted, at some point she had stopped dwelling on it and started imagining their joining once again. 

It was hard enough to perform her wifely duties with Oggy constantly underfoot. During her pregnancy, Ian had been so afraid of every bump in the road and shadow around the corner, and then after the birth, he had insisted on waiting longer than the time recommended by his Aunt to come together once again. She had not understood why they’d needed to wait at all, but knew better than to question Claire, who she saw as wiser than any other woman she’d ever met. She had always prided herself on her patience, and so she had waited over two months before having enough. She had gotten up to feed Oggy in the middle of the night, and had just put him back down to his crib when she’d looked over to her husband’s prostrate form on the bed. The moon had been full, causing him to fling an arm over his face to cover his eyes, one leg was propped up, and the other arm was flung out onto her side of the bed, beckoning her back to their world of blankets and embraces. Though he was still quite modest despite being in only a shirt, something snapped within her, and realized she was tired of waiting. 

She shook her head of the memory and went back to working in the garden nearby to their little house. It would not do to dwell on the past, no matter how pleasant, when there was hardly anything to be done about the aching need that had been swelling just below her navel. She watched her hands as she worked, so innocent now, but they would be traitorous tonight, she knew. Oggy was being watched by Lizzie Beardsley today and she was alone on their patch of land. She stood up straight, sighing as her bones and muscles relaxed. It was hardly past midday, but she was ready to retire to the house to start supper and knit some on her porch. Every inch of her body was covered in sweat, despite wearing as much linen as she could. Perhaps she could strip down to her shift and lay on her bed in the cool shade before starting dinner, but what she really wanted was a cool bath. 

She cast an eye as she walked purposefully towards the river, avoiding the usual well-worn trail in order to take one that Ian and she often frequented with Oggy in toe. The slightly rocky path led to a bank now almost entirely covered with by a weeping willow tree, its branches reaching to the water as if to take a sip. It was well downstream from the dock where the ferry came to and fro and the willow branches gave a good deal of shade as well as cover from prying eyes. 

It was behind the tree that she stripped herself of boots and stockings and dress and skirts and corset, letting her long brown hair fall down her back as she shook the stress and sweat away from her scalp. She peeked around the tree, though was unsurprised to see no one. Stepping lightly around and under the cover of the tree, she quickly discarded the shift on a branch, within easy reach, and ran into the water, squealing like a care-free child at the coolness.  
She dove and held her head under the waves of the river, letting the stress of the day wash away. She rested and floated for a time, being careful to stay hidden under the branches of a tree. 

Within the cover of the tree, Rachel felt as though she was in another world, where everything sparkled and stayed cool. She wished Ian could see this. Soon she knew she needed to get back to the house. She trudged back up the bank, the warmth and lethargy of the day and her swim causing her to leave her nakedness unshielded. She turned back once more to stare over the water at her own little corner of peace, committing this afternoon to memory. 

There was a loud thud of something falling behind her and she whirled around, heart pounding as she realized her situation of complete nakedness out in the open. Her shift was still three steps away, but all thought of it fled when she saw the newcomer standing not ten feet away. 

Those same eyes that haunted her dreams drank in her form, tongue darted out to wet lips, and the apple of his throat bobbed up and down. Her hands, which had previously been covering her breasts came down at her sides as she stood up straight and un-crossed her knees, allowing the newcomer a better view. 

“Just what is it that ye think ye’re doin’, lass?” His voice came out hoarse, as though he had not spoken to a single soul these past three nights. 

“Good morrow husband, it has been too long,” was her only reply. Just as he stared at her, she stared at him. The thud she had heard had been a buck apparently slung over his shoulder that now lay on the bank. In the heat, he had availed himself of coat and rolled up his sleeves to show the tattoos on his arms. He looked road-weary and hot and good enough to swallow whole. 

He took a step forward and she turned to face him directly, not shielding anything from him. The water had tempered the fire that had burned in her belly, but one look from Ian sent it alight once again. Only this time, satisfaction was within reach. His eyes would not stop raking over her as he took another step and then another, too quick and too slow all at once. 

“Ye didna answer my question,” he commented. “What are ye thinkin’, barin’ all that god gave ye for anyone in the world to see when ye knew I have been starved for yer touch these past three nights.”

Her eyes flicked from his chest to his face, half-hooded. They both knew the likelihood of anyone coming to their bank, neither of them cared.

“Did I know that, husband?” He was close enough to touch now, but she dared not reach out. She felt his breath on her face, and knew who was in control this time.

His eyes searched her face once more, before curling one hand around one cheek of her ass and pressing her body to his, their lips colliding and tangling together. “Ye must’ve,” he murmured against her lips. “For what other reason would ye be here, in the exact state I’ve been dreaming of since I left yer bed.” He surged forward and laid her down on the bank, yanking her hands off his back and pinning them beside her head. He stared viciously into her eyes and rocked his pelvis in-between her legs, the hardness of him brushing up against her and causing her to hiss. 

“D’ye feel that, ye wee vixen? Are ye proud of the fruits of yer labor?”

She squirmed beneath him, nearly crying in frustration. “Oh Ian! Please!”

He ignored her. “How could ye have known how I longed for ye, lying in the forest, daring myself not to look and see ye begging for me to satisfy ye?”

“ _How could I have known?_ How can thou have known how I wanted thee here, with me this very moment.” Ian let go of her hands so that she could hold his face. He kissed her deeply.

“Wife, how I have missed ye,” he said, grunting as one hand snaked down the front of his breeks to grasp him. “And I see thou hast missed me,” he teased. 

He lifted up, kissing her all the while as they teamed up to tear his clothes off. Their work was delayed slightly as his hands would wander to grip her backside, pinch her nipples, and occasionally flick inside her slit as she moaned. Not soon enough he was bare and she was wanting and he was not looking to deny her any further. He moaned into her ear as he slid into her and she arched her back, biting onto his shoulder. Kissing the shell of her ear, he began to move, quickly. 

Each groan from him was punctuated by a thrust and whimper from her. She begged him for more and he gave it to her, pounding her hips into the rocky surface below them. She knew it would bruise by morning. She didn’t care. The fire inside her roared and threatened to consume her. Her pleas to let it took the form of Ian’s name as he pushed her closer and closer to the edge. Finally a thumb slickened with his tongue did the trick, fanning the flames to envelope her whole body. He grunted one last time as his hips stuttered and he fell limp on top of her.

After a moment she sighed and he rolled them over onto his back. 

“I missed thee, so very much,” she said, placing a kiss on his temple. He smiled and held her closer. She did not know how long they lay there under the branches of the willow, but it was long enough for her husband to get a second wind. She giggled as he nibbled on her neck and rolled her onto her back, finding himself within her easily. His pace was much slower than the first time. She whined and tried to quicken it, but he did not waver in his rhythm. 

“Ye feel so slick, mo nighean donn,” he whispered to her, feeling along her sides. “Must be yer covered in river algae.”

She pushed at his chest and he chuckled, licking at her neck and playing with her nipple as he continued his pace. 

“Have ye ever heard of mermaids, Rachel?” he asked, slowing his pace even further to drive her even more wild.

“What?” Her question was breathy and short. 

“Mermaids, ye ken, the ones sailors are always talkin’ about.”

“Thou art thinking of fairy stories at a time like this?” she demanded incredulously. He chuckled again, stopping his pace entirely and she keened, trying with all her strength to move but he held her down firm. 

“The sailors who’d first brought me over the sea were terrified of them. I remember praying they’d come and save me.” She winced at his words, knowing the full story behind his trip to Jamaica. She cupped his cheek and he smiled at her, kissing her hand before pinning it back next to her head gently. He leaned his head down to whisper directly into her ear.

“When I first saw you on the bank, naked as the day ye were born and the afternoon sun glistening off the river, I could’ve sworn ye were my mermaid come to rescue me at last.” 

His eyes were too wide, too loving, too honest for Rachel to bear. And though he was still inside her, the tears welled up in her eyes. 

“Oh Ian,” she said, sighing and then gasping as he drove into her a little harder than before.

He pressed his forehead to hers and hummed in pleasure. “My slick fish, how ye must’ve danced in the water.” He rolled them over onto his back, and she adjusted to be astride him. “Dance for me, my mermaid.” And she did. 

* * *

“Where are ye goin’?” He asked as she headed back into the water.

She gestured to her backside. “To wash myself, thou hast made quite the mess.” She continued into the water unfettered.

“I’m afraid there are some messes no bath, no matter how long or holy, will be able to fix, lass.” He was teasing her but followed after, cleaning the mud from his own body as did she. 

She splashed water at him and he followed back in kind, soon stopping the deluge that was about to occur by pulling her close and kissing her deeply.

Yes, she could stay like this forever and never ask for more. But there was no penalty for trying. 


End file.
